


The Scorpion Part 2: The Boogeyman

by devilgoat



Series: The Scorpion [2]
Category: Halloween (2018), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Choking, Fingering, Frottage, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Makeup Sex, Masks, Other, Possessive Michael, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, gross dude gets what's coming to him, trans!michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 02:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16610192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilgoat/pseuds/devilgoat
Summary: You invite over your friend and coworker, but when things start to take a turn for the worst, will your protector be there for you?





	The Scorpion Part 2: The Boogeyman

The sun had finally set on your small, interesting town. You weren’t quite sure if interesting was the right word for it, but it’s the word you chose to use. The words chaotic, dying, or cursed didn’t have quite the right connotation that you wanted it to have. It was only “interesting” because Michael lived here too. The town just wasn’t the same after the murders. Michael Myers became the Boogeyman overnight. But you weren’t afraid of him. Especially not after what he just did to you. 

Your entire frame was shaking as the final throws of your orgasm coursed through your body. You took in a deep breath, struggling to calm yourself at least a little before you took another action. When you were ready, you looked up at the Shape next to you and made a sigh of contentment. Michael’s strong chest was rising and falling in front of you, and you couldn’t hold back the temptation of placing a hand on it. He allowed it. You felt the strong heartbeat underneath the thin layer of fabric, and heard his muffled panting from behind the white mask he had stolen for himself. 

Michael was staring at you, but really it was more like glaring, the only sort of viewing he was capable of, although you didn’t mind. You also didn’t mind the sight of his hardened erection straining against the front of his coveralls. You felt your heart flip over onto itself as you saw him twitch under his clothing. 

You pried your eyes away from it and looked up at his “face”. In the darkening light, you could barely see his calculating eyes behind the mask’s eyeholes. You scooted yourself closer, never breaking eye contact from the large man by your side. The hand on his chest snuck up to his zipper and you heard the small clicks as you started pulling it downwards. 

You didn’t get far before you realized you made a mistake. 

Michael grabbed your hand and yanked it off him. He let out a pained grunt unlike any you had heard before as he stood up from the bed. You called out to him, trying to apologize. You had thought that by now he would’ve been comfortable with revealing his bare skin, especially after actually servicing you. But you were wrong, and it was too late.

Michael made another pain, gut wrenching grunt and made for the door. The distant slam of the back door made your heart almost stop. Michael left you there, naked, alone. Probably alone, truly alone, for the first time in quite a long time. You couldn’t bear it. You hurried and dressed yourself into the clothes he had stripped from you and ran through your home into your back yard. You called for him, over and over, until your voice had started to grow hoarse from your yells. The next-door neighbor’s light turned on in the dark, and you decided it was time to go back inside. 

Despite the chill that had snuck into your once warm home, you stripped yourself down once more and went to bed. You didn’t sleep. You couldn’t sleep. You lay there, waiting. You waited for the pale white face to show itself in the corner of your room once more. You wanted him to sneak in the way you both knew he wasn’t supposed to, but you wouldn’t be mad. 

You left the back door unlocked. 

You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open despite the weighty sleepiness pressing down on you to no avail. Sleep overtook you and dragged you under. 

You dreamt of soft lips and silent eyes. 

———  
You woke up a few minutes before your alarm. Usually you would force yourself to fall back asleep, even for another 2 minutes because you knew you would need it, but not this time. You let those minutes pass by as you stared at the ceiling above you. And then you thought about things. Which was probably the worse thing you could do at the moment. 

You didn’t know if he was coming back again. You wouldn’t blame him if you didn’t. You had gone too far; you had assumed too much. You assumed that he would be okay with showing you more of him but you betrayed his trust. You know what they say: assume makes an ass out of you and me. You were realizing it now, that it wasn’t about being physically naked for Michael, but rather being vulnerable. He just could not have that. The mask was his shelter, and that extended down to his clothing. No wonder you had never seen him wear something el—

Your alarm rang. 

Angry that it had interrupted your thoughts, you turned it off and got up to take your morning shower. In a huff, you grabbed your towels and made your way into your bathroom. You allowed your brain to go into autopilot as you thought the same thoughts over and over again. They repeated themselves incessantly, banging around in your head without any mercy. 

You betrayed his trust. You pushed him too far. 

You made him scared. 

Oh no. That was it. You made him scared. He wasn’t expecting it. He wasn’t expecting to be vulnerable, and you scared him. Scared him off. 

You stood in the shower for a while and let the hot water flow over you. It washed his touch from you and you wished so desperately that it had a chance to soak into your skin. There was no telling whether Michael would be coming back or not. You shook off the thought and finished your shower. If you kept yourself busy, you wouldn’t have the brain space to worry yourself. 

When you got out of the shower, you realize just how long you had stayed inside. You were running late for work and it was time to go, go, go. You hurried through the rest of your routine and tried to make up for lost time. By the time you were running out the door, your heart and mind were buzzing with anxiety that you had momentarily forgotten about Michael. Work was in walking distance, although, pretty much everything was within walking distance in Haddonfield. Your calves burned with an increased pace as you tried to get to work on time. 

With hair slightly disheveled and only a little out of breath, you burst through the double doors of Haddonfield High, where you worked in the administration office. The school bell was about to ring and you settled into your office chair behind the front desk. One of your coworkers shot you a look that said “late again, huh?” and nothing more before they settled into their own routine. You let out a long breath to help regulate your slight exhaustion before getting your desk ready. 

The morning, thank god, went off without a hitch despite your slight tardiness. Thankfully you had arrived even before the vice principal, and thus narrowly avoided being chewed out. Again. A few kids came in late, checking in at the main office as they were supposed to, and you led them on their way. After the mid morning rush, everything settled down as kids stopped trickling in and the workday entered its usual lull. You spent the rest of your time marking up paperwork and filling in sheets. While only slightly more than a glorified receptionist, you still had quite a few things to do during your “downtime” at work. But after some time, you grew a bit bored. 

You sat back in your chair and swiveled it around, looking past the few desks occupied by your coworkers and out the wall of windows leading outside. It had become a habit now more than anything. A few times every hour you would check the suburban street for a white mask, partially hidden behind trees and bushes. He would always be there, watching you in the distance. No matter how much time had passed, he would stay standing in the same spot for hours and hours and hours. 

He was something to look forward to. Those long nights together that you spent watching tv and talking. Or rather you talking at him and he would respond with the occasionally nod or shake of the head. There were times late at night that you would curl up next to him on the couch, his large frame taking up most of the space on it, and he would hold your hand. 

He wasn’t outside there now. 

You kept checking throughout the day, willing that you would be able to see him for even a moment, but each time you were disappointed. You were swiveling in your seat so often that the coworker that shot you that look earlier, Janice, was passing not-so-silent judgment on you. 

“What’s so important out there, huh?” she said. She looked out the window and you said “Nothing!” just loud enough to take her attention away from the window and back to you. 

She gave you a look of surprise and let out a loud sigh. “You know, if you’re so bored sitting there, we could give you more work to do.” 

“No, no,” you sighed, “I’ve got enough.”

You turned back to face the school hallway, now forced to stop yourself from obsessively checking if Michael was watching. You were sure he wasn’t, but at least if you didn’t look, there was the possibility that he was still there. Schrödinger’s Myers. 

Now with renewed focus, you turned your attention back to your work. When days felt like they had passed, you checked the time, and only mere hours had struggled along. The lunch bell rang and you let out a relieved sigh. You watched Janice leave the office so she could have her own lunch, and you took her absence as your chance to check the window once more. You looked through the swaying autumn leaves and convinced yourself that you saw a patch of white amongst the red, orange, and yellow. But you were wrong. Just a trick of the mind paired with wishful thinking. 

You stared out longingly until you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned your chair around quickly, startled by the noise. You looked up to the bright white shirt of the school’s gym teacher, Charles. With the shock of his presence quickly fading, you couldn’t help but to smile. You and Charles were good friends and often spent your lunches together. With your surprising absence, he had come and visited you instead, bringing along a can of soda and bag of chips he had bought from the vending machine down the hall. 

“Kind ironic, don’t you think?” he asked. 

“What is?” you wondered. 

He pointed at himself and then at the snacks he had brought you. “High school gym teacher? Unhealthy junk foods? The two rarely mix.”

“And yet here we are.”

You both chuckled and you opened the bag of chips. He leaned on your desk and let you get in a few chips before shuffling a bit in place. 

Through a mouth half full, you said: “Out with it.”

Charles smiled once more and got to his point. “So, buddy, I was thinking...”

“For once, jock?” 

He mocked exaggerated laughter. “Ha ha ha. Yes, and it hurt my brain meat quite a lot. So I was thinking, if you weren’t doing anything, that maybe we could hang out a bit tonight?”

The two of you had hung out on more than one occasion. In fact, he was the only one at work that you spent any time with outside Haddonfield High. You hadn’t spent too much time with him recently because you were so preoccupied with Michael, and if what had happened last night didn’t happen, you would have told him you were busy. But things were a bit unclear with Michael at the moment. You mulled it over in your head, weighing if you had the energy or if you just wanted to stay at home and wait for Michael. 

Charles broke through your thoughts. “If not that’s fine. We can do it another time.” He gave you a small smile and straightened his back in order to leave. 

“No, wait,” you called out, “I’m free tonight. At least for a little bit.”

If anything, this would be a welcome distraction, and you truly welcomed the distraction. 

Charles’ smile grew brighter and he lightly tapped your desk with his hand. “Well, alright! I’ll meet you here after the bell.”

You nodded to him and watched him turn out of the office and down the hallway. It was only once he was gone that you realized you were smiling. Yeah, this would be good. A good distraction with a good friend. A good time. Good, good, good. You felt your thoughts drifting to Michael again and before you could fall into the rabbit hole you focused yourself on your work. You worked all through lunch, fighting the temptation to turn behind you and watch. 

The day seemed to zoom by once you had a new thing to look forward to. You ignored Janice’s hassling and kept yourself as occupied as you could until the final bell of the day rang. As you packed up your things and reorganized your desk to be ready to leave, you spied the telltale white shirt that always preceded Charles’ face and voice. 

“You ready?” he asked. 

You made a sound of agreement and nodded your head. Once your chair was tucked behind your desk, you followed Charles out of the building and onto the street. You both took the time to step on crunchy, dead leaves on the way over to your place since it was a bit closer. You talked the entire time, sharing little jokes and gossiping about the other staff, including Janice, of course. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you were back at your tiny house. It was enough for you, and you had made it yours, decorating it with nick knacks and odd things from thrift stores. Charles immediately made himself at home, already used to the environment, and got himself a glass of water before settling down onto the couch. You let him know you were going to change into more comfortable clothing and you left him flipping through channels on tv. 

In the privacy of your room, you sat down on your bed for a moment to take in a breath. You searched the corners of your room to see if Michael had hidden himself there, but there wasn’t any space in here to hide at all. You sighed through your nose and began to strip, quickly changing into looser clothing. You turned back and made to leave your room when you noticed the door was slightly open.

Michael? 

You made long strides to the door, pulling it open with enthusiasm. 

“Mic-?” But no, it wasn’t him. He wasn’t there. Right where he should have been was Charles, reaching out towards the door and quickly pulling back as you revealed yourself. 

“Oh sorry!” Charles said. “Your door was a little open and I was about to ask if you wanted me to heat up some popcorn or something?”

You didn’t say anything at first. You were thinking about him behind the door, but you knew it felt...wrong. You realized that he easily could’ve been watching you undress. Charles had never done anything to betray your trust, so you had no reason to be suspicious, but you still were. And it all didn’t feel right. 

“Uhh, yeah, sure,” you muttered as you passed your friend and went down the short hallway through to the living room. You plopped yourself down onto the couch and pulled the blanket you kept there over you. The cold paired with your newfound vulnerability made hiding underneath it a very appealing escape. Although the tv played a scary movie, your attention was not entirely on it but rather on Charles as he moved about your tiny kitchen. You watched as he unwrapped the plastic of a popcorn bag and stuck it into the microwave. You watched as he set the time, and you only stopped watching when he turned around to look back at you. 

Refocusing on the movie in front of you, you tried to calm yourself. You misread the situation, you told yourself, it was all fine. But something told you that it was all off. Maybe you were just on edge because you had gotten so used to your protector being within throwing distance. But he wasn’t here now. Maybe it was all in your head. Or maybe it wasn’t. 

The beep of the microwave made you jump in your skin and you laughed at yourself. You were so high strung that the littlest thing set you off. It was all fine. When Charles joined you once more on your couch, you placed the bowl of hot popcorn in between the both of you. 

It wasn’t a particularly scary or good horror movie on tv, so both of you felt comfortable in nitpicking and laughing at the overacting amongst other things. You found it easy to laugh and smile in this moment. You were preoccupied with eating popcorn and pointing out how you can totally see the shadow of the cameraman in this scene. Charles was laughing right alongside you, pointing out a few things you missed and a few that you hadn’t. 

The two of you were reaching the bottom of the bowl quickly. Without looking, your hand scraped the bottom of the plastic bowl, and you recoiled when you felt Charles’ hand touch yours. You chuckled and shrugged it off, giving him a smile and quickly apologizing. Before your eyes flicked back towards the screen, you saw that his expression hardened. 

“When are we going to stop this?” Charles asked. His voice sounded slightly tired. 

You turned back to him. “What do you mean? I thought you liked it? That you were having fun with the movie?” 

“No, not the movie,” he said. “I mean... I mean this-“ he gestured from himself to you and then back again. “I mean this little game we’re playing.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Wrapping the blanket a bit tighter onto yourself, you shifted your body and faced him fully. 

“You knowwww. This sorta ‘will-they, won’t-they’ suspense.”

You stared back at him without saying a word. 

Charles scooted himself a little closer to you. “Let’s cut the bullshit, okay? I’m interested in you and, well... I was thinking that you were into me for a while before you started flaking on me. But I thought this was a- I don’t know- a sign? Or something? That were gonna give me a chance... or something.”

You said nothing in response. You didn’t know how to. 

“Well, you do, dontcha?” he persisted. He scooted even closer. 

The spell was broken. “Do what?” You asked. 

“You know,” his voice grew slightly exasperated, “This.” He gestured between the two of you again. “You want to try this out? I mean… I’ve just been dying for you to ask. That’s why it was alright to come over right? That other guy you’ve been seeing is gone now? And you’ve finally got time for little ol’ me?” 

You laughed. You couldn’t help but to burst out laughing in Charles’ face. Through your laughter you were able to let out a few words. “No? That... this-“ You gestured mockingly between the two of you as he has done before- “was never, ever on the table! Trust me, if I was interested in you, you’d know.” 

Charles clamped his mouth shut and clenched his jaw. His eyes darted from side to side as he tried to understand the concept of not being desired. “But...but you invite me over to your house all the time! We watch movies together and we talk like every day!”

“Yeah, because we’re friends?” You scoffed, “That’s what friends do.” 

Charles didn’t know got to respond to that. His jaw unclenched now and his mouth hung open. You could see the gears whirling inside his mind as the concept of friendship and platonic relationships entered his consciousness for the first time. 

Clearly he wasn’t getting it, for after a few moments he scooted even closer, now slightly pressing against you. His touch felt like angry coals against you. 

“You’re joking right?” A large grin appeared on his face. “You’re just messing with me. Playing the old hard-to-get?”

With a sigh of frustration you stood up from the couch. “No, I’m not,” you said in a stern voice. “I think it’s time for you to go now.” 

“What?” Charles almost shouted. He got up from the couch and invaded your personal space once more. “You’re just gonna waste my time and then kick me out?! Is that what you’re gonna do?” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words were able to come out as Charles grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you back onto the couch. You weren’t weak by any means. Your body had a natural strength to it, but you weren’t prepared for Charles to lay his hands on you. 

You fell back onto the couch with a gasp and made to get up again when Charles pounced on top. He was shouting now but you couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying. Your sole focus was fighting him off. Your fists were connecting with his sides, but he shrugged them off. You kept punching until he grabbed your wrists and pulled them over your head. Your mind was full of fury and wrath; you were falling into a frenzy. You were able to catch a few words that spewed from his mouth. They were along the lines of you “owing” him something that he “had been waiting for”. 

You found yourself shouting as well now that you couldn’t use your hands. At first you were shouting curses but those quickly devolved into mere shouting and angry yelling at Charles. Your eyes were glaring at his reddening face when you detected movement out of the corner of your eye. 

More frustrated words came out of his mouth until fingers wrapped around the back of his throat. 

He finally stopped shouting when he felt the strong grip around his neck. In the split second before he was yanked away from you, his eyes flashed up to your restrained hands in confusion. His eyes widened, and then he was up and off you. You watched as his body was slammed face first against the nearest wall. He hit his head hard and if he wasn’t turned around with a hand wrapped around his throat, he would’ve screamed. With his back against the wall now, he could look at the face of the person hurting him. 

The white, emotionless face. 

You righted yourself on the couch, too paralyzed with fear to truly react right away to what was happening. 

Michael Myers had come home. 

He was standing in your living room, holding Charles by the neck, choking him. You hadn’t expected him to come back. You thought he was done with you, but apparently not. He had probably been waiting for you at home when he saw you bringing a guest and watched from outside. He had been guarding you the entire time without your knowledge. And he saw what Charles was trying to do. 

Charles, bug-eyed, looked over at you and pleaded for you to help him. His lips moved with soundless cries for help. Michael did not loosen his grip. He tilted his head before he leaned in and squeezed. His other hand held a long, sharp knife. He raised it slowly above his head, making sure that Charles knew what was going to happen. 

“Michael!” you exclaimed. 

The blade stopped right above Charles’ face. Michael did not lower it, but he turned his head to look at you. You couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark eyeholes of his mask. His head tilted to one side as if wondering “what?” You took a step forward towards Michael. 

“Hold on,” you said as you walked over to the two of them. You placed a hand on Michael’s knife-wielding arm. “Don’t kill him, at least not here, not now. We don’t want to draw suspicion towards you.” You looked at Charles, who had seemed to shrink in Michael’s grasp. Michael was breathing hard under his mask. As you touched him, you could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves. The entire energy of the room had changed. Now you had the power. You even had power over Michael. You gently pressed down on Michael’s arm, and he lowered the knife for you. You turned to Charles. 

“Don’t come here again. Don’t talk to me again,” you took a breath. “Wherever I am, he’s there too.” 

Michael realized what you were doing. That you didn’t want him killed but you wanted to scare him. You wanted him scared to the point that he would never dare touch you again. Especially not while knowing that The Boogeyman of Haddonfield was your person bodyguard. 

Michael turned back to Charles and grunted in anger. In a show of strength and ferocity, he lifted Charles a full foot off the ground by his neck. Michael’s potential victim began kicking his legs wildly underneath him, hoarse whimpers and malformed words struggling to pass his lips. Michael made sure that Charles stared into his mask and the void of his eyes so he knew that his death really could happen. Charles’ mouth opened in a silent scream, almost as silent as Michael’s fury. He grabbed at Michael’s arm, trying to claw him off to no avail. The Shape raised his knife once more, flipped it over in his hand, and carved a line halfway down Charles’ cheek down to his jaw. Charles’ legs kicked with a ferocity that it was as if he were drowning, and in a way, he was. No pained scream could escape him as the hot, wet blood flowed freely down his face. The Boogeyman watched it spill. 

Michael still had half a mind to kill him, but he obeyed you, and with a grunt he threw Charles across the room, clear over your sofa and close to the front door. 

Charles slammed into the floor and he squeaked from the sheer absence of air in his lungs. He rolled onto his hands and knees, desperately gasping for air and immediately coughing it back up. Before he could move, Michael was already by Charles’ side. He grabbed him by the back of the neck once more. Michael pulled him up as you opened the front door ahead of him and stepped to the side. Michael took his knife and wiped the blood off of it by rubbing it across Charles’ once pristine white shirt. 

As Michael made his way towards the door, Charles in hand, you were able to tell your former friend in thing before Michael tossed him out. 

“Say anything,” you threatened, “And I won’t stop him next time.” 

With that, Charles went flying down onto the pavement of your driveway, and you slammed the door behind him. You knew he would dare say anything if he valued his life. Not like anyone would believe that he not only encounter The Shape, but that he actually lived to tell the tale. 

Taking a step away from the door, your back bumped into Michael’s large chest. You swiveled around and looked up at his blank, expressionless face. In his presence, you were able to finally break down. With tears stinging your eyes, you threw yourself at Michael and buried your face deep in his chest. You clung to him for dear life and wrapped your arms around him. 

“I didn’t think you would come back,” you sobbed. Shivers went through your body as you began to shake, but your body calmed almost immediately as you felt Michael’s strong arms consume you. You savored the feeling of his body all around you before you pulled away and looked up at him once more. 

“I’m sorry,” you began. “I’m sorry about yesterday, I’m sorry that I scared you, I-“ 

Before you could finish, you heard his knife clatter to the floor, and Michael scooped you up in his arms, lifting you clear off the ground with ease. He pressed you close to himself as he carried you over to your bedroom. The walk felt like it was in slow motion. You watched the “face” of your protector as his often one-track mind stared ahead. You caught a flash of his eyes in the soft light, and you saw the same sadness that was always there, but also something more. 

Michael places you gently on the bed. Your legs hung off the side of it, and at your feet, Michael kneeled. He was fully on his knees, his large frame still tall enough to nearly be at eye level with you. 

He whimpered. 

Why or how he could be this vulnerable with you, you could never understand, and he would never tell you. The fact that he had forgiven you was surprising enough. You figured that he had spent most of the day searching himself, seeing if he was able to trust someone - trust you - enough to be okay with being scared. But he was ready now. 

Ever so slowly, he bent his head down until it rested on your lap. You could feel the heat flowing through the mask onto your skin. You placed a hesitant hand on his masked head and gave a comforting press. He whimpered again. 

Slowly, he moved away from your touch and stood up to his full height. He saw his body tremble as he took a deep breath and a hand rose up slowly to the zipper of his coveralls. 

“No, Michael,” you pleaded. “You don’t need to do this for me. I understand!” You lifted up a hand to stop him, but he grabbed it with his spare hand. He didn’t make a sound as he stared into the deep parts of you. He wanted to do this, you realized. He let go of your hand, and slowly unzipped the entire front of his coveralls, although he didn’t take it off completely. This was about as much as he comfortable with for now. 

And now you were able to really see him. 

You saw that he had no clothing underneath. You saw the pale, smooth skin around the scars on his chest and torso that he had received one way or another. He had two scars that formed neat, horizontal lines across each side of his chest. There were bullet wound scars as well, and they peppered his torso with raised bumps. His body was lean and toned, and it hid his surprising strength and stamina. 

You were drawn to him, and it took all you could to keep your hands off him. He unzipped his clothing all the way down, and you even managed to see the thick hair around his pelvis as his member was just out of view. His scarred chest rose and fell with the deep, heavy breaths that he took. He was scared, you could tell, but he allowed you to see this. He allowed you to see him. You reached out and grasped his large hand. You squeezed it in your own before you brought it up to your lips and kissed your way up his fingers to his hand to his wrist. He leaned into you and allowed his bare skin to stop right in front of your face. Parting from his arm, you pressed your lips against his stomach and kissed each and every single scar in his body. Your gentle lips traced every fight, every accident, everything wrong that had happened, and you soothed the pain inside. 

His hand came up and held your head against his battered flesh. He desired more of your touch, more of your lips, more of you. He needed it all across his body. You lips began to go lower and lower on his abdomen, and his body trembled beneath your lips. Before you could go too low, Michael gently pushed you back. He grabbed you by the shoulders and lifted you up further onto the bed. Laying length-wise, you watched as The Shape climbed up on top of you, as fluid as a snake. His chest and face hovered above you now, and one strong leg placed itself between your legs and against your groin. You let out a soft sound and Michael began to rest some of his weight on you. He helped remove your shirt, and he shuddered above you. He lowered his upper body and tucked his head between your neck and shoulder. His breathing was loud against your ear, and you felt it quicken within moments. 

You felt a hand dance up your thigh and hook itself underneath your comfy sweatpants. Michael tugged them down gently, leaving them low enough so he could have full access to you. A thick, weighty hand gave you a gentle touch on your most sensitive area, and you let out a soft gasp of pleasure. Michael wanted to mad you his again. The trespasser had been taken care of, and now he needed to claim you once more. He was done watching. He needed all of you. Your hands explored Michael’s damaged body, seeking every single cell of his body that you could. You squeezed at him and ran your nails against his pale flesh. 

And yet you felt like something was missing. When you watched Michael at work with Charles, doing exactly what he did best, you couldn’t help but be fascinated by the raw power that he held in his body. You were entranced by his hands. His thick, veiny, versatile hands that were touching you so gently. But maybe gentle wasn’t what you wanted at the moment. You embraced that it was in his nature to harm. 

You pushed Michael away for a moment so that you could look into his complex eyes. 

“I saw what you’re capable of, Michael.” Hearing you say his name always sent pleasurable shivers down his spine. He tilted his head slightly in confusion before you explained further. “I want you to be rough with me, Michael. I want you to show me what you’re capable of.” Michael sat up on his haunches, allowing full few of his chest and stomach. His head cocked to the side as he looked at your heaving body underneath him. Before you knew it, his agile hand gripped your throat. 

Although it was nowhere near the intensity that Michael gave Charles, it was still enough to close off your airways and make you struggle to breath. Your entire body shook from ecstasy underneath him. You were grinding against his other hand now as it worked with rubbing and tugging at you. You were fully aroused and positively melting underneath Michael and his control. The fingers wrapped around your throat applied different points of pressure, each of them working independently and pressing or releasing when he saw fit. His hand knew what to do around a neck, and he wanted to see you squirm. 

Your hips bucked against his hand as you desired more and more from him. He peered down at you from above, and you could see that his eyes were growing wild. You felt his groin bump against your pelvis, his heat radiating off of him and against you. He began to grind against your leg, his own still pressed up between your legs. His entire body was moving itself around you. His hands were toying with you, making you his, and his hips and torso were gliding up and down your bare skin, already moist with sweat. 

You truly struggled to breathe now. Only a fraction of air was entering your lungs compared to normal, and Michael’s fingers did not let up. It was everything you wanted. Dark spots began to dance in your vision, and your arousal was closing in on its peak. You were heavily leaking against Michael’s hand as he expertly worked you. The tips of his fingers rubbed the area with the highest concentration of nerves while his palm slid up and down the length of you. He used your fluids to coat his hand in its entirety, and once properly lubricated, he pressed a finger against your entrance and dipped it in. He was gently at first, but like his other hand, he quickly grew rough, shoving the length of his thick finger deep into your tight hole. He thrust the finger in and out of you as fast as he could, making you groan from underneath the hand around your throat. Once satisfied, he pressed yet another finger inside of you and curled them up, hitting that perfect spot deep inside of you that made you howl with pleasure. 

His hands were rough as they used you, and you felt yourself coming closer and closer. Michael pressed his groin closer to yours now, and his fingers quickly ducked out of you as he adjusted his coveralls to press his heat against yours. His fluids began to mix with yours as he ground himself against you, the lengths of each of you running up against one another. His hand returned to your bundle of nerves and rubbed you roughly as his thrusts up against you grew faster and faster. He was completely gone now, for his only goal was to cum against you as hard and as fast as he could. 

The hand around your throat began to relax, allowing you to moan and whimper louder than you could before. Your pleasure was music to his ears. And silencing you was music just as much. Michael began the rhythmic practice of loosening his grip in order to hear a few desperate moans before closing your airway off again, leaving you gasping and straining from his strength. His breathing was now pure panting as his animalistic side took over. Michael didn’t know if he enjoyed inflicting pain into others, but he did know that he enjoyed doing this to you. 

His arousal was getting the better of him, and you could feel the slickness of his fluids coating your pelvis and stomach. And despite how ravenous he was, Michael wanted to feel you need him. He needed to know you were truly his. His hand and crotch were rubbing against you, touching every single spot of your surface that it could, smearing his hot fluids against your twitching skin. Your vision was now going as you began to struggle for breath. Your head was growing lighter, and you clawed at Michael’s scarred chest and lean shoulders. 

And, god, the hand around your throat, the hand so capable of killing you, of snapping your neck at a moment’s notice, the hand that was giving you anything and everything you ever wanted. You focused on his touch all around you, and of the power he held in himself, and how he used it all for you. 

You felt your orgasm charging towards you at a hundred miles an hour. You arched your back and your entire body ran stiff as you came against Michael’s body. Your vision turned white as Michael felt you cum and closed off your airway completely. You would have gasped if you could, and your entire body convulsed with waves of pleasure. You felt yourself explode against Michael’s hand and groin, and you felt his hand working you through your orgasm. At one point you stopped hearing and seeing and breathing, and all you could do was feel what he was doing to your body. You felt his fingers thrust inside your slick, wet entrance, and they stretched you with their thickness and ferocity. You felt his hand choking you, and you imagined the veins popping out from the back of his hand with the force he was putting into it. You felt the vibration coming from his chest as he grunted, signifying that he was getting closer to his end as well. 

As you entered some form of consciousness after Michael loosened his grip against you, you were able to see more of him now. You saw how his hips bucked into you with fluid, agile movements. You saw his eyes behind his mask and knew that they had not strayed from you for even a second. You reached up a hand and placed it against the cheek of Michael’s mask, and you stroked him softly, a harsh juxtaposition to what his own hands were doing to you. 

The hand working your used up entrance began adjusted itself in order to smear your fluids across your length and your thighs. You moaned as your hypersensitive genitals twitched and throbbed from his touch. Michael got as much of your wetness onto his hand as he could, and once satisfied, pressed his hand against himself began to rub and tug at himself. He wanted you on him in every single way. He grabbed you by your hips and lined the two of you up. He didn’t care how sensitive you were, he wanted to feel your heat against his, he wanted to feel your cum and wetness coat him and make him wet. He mashed himself against you, rubbing himself against all that he could, and intermixed your warm juices with his own. You were in a constant state of soundless moaning as you tried your best to get in as much air into your lungs as you could. Michael was panting even louder now, and you could hear it getting faster as his crotch rubbed against yours. He rubbed himself obsessively against your warm entrance, biding his time. 

With a final squeeze against your throat, Michael pushed the tip of himself inside of you, and your tightness and warmth made him cum. For once, he was the one that stopped breathing, if only for a moment. He bucked his hips once or twice as he rode out his orgasm, and throat suffered for this as he forgot you needed to breathe. Thankfully, only another moment passed until you were allowed to breathe again. Michael pulled himself out and rubbed himself once more against the length of you. His breathing was haggard and loud, but after a bit it began to even out. His eyes had never left you. 

He released the grip from your throat, and his large fingers delicately traces the bruises that were already beginning to form on you. Michael’s head tilted to one side as he watched your form shrink in exhaustion and pain. You breathed in as deep as you could, and your lungs burned with renewed vitality. Michael seemed worried, but you looked back up at him, and smiled. With the flash of your grin, Michael pulled you up by your arms and pressed you against his own shuddering body. His arms held you tightly as he repositioned you to rest on his lap. You could hear his slow breathing against your ear. 

You slipped your hands between his back and his clothing and pressed him close to you. Your hearts were beating wildly against each other, the only thing keeping them apart being bone and flesh. Your bodies were slick with sweat and cum, but neither of you wanted to move in the slightest. You already knew that if you were to try to pull away, that he would pull you right back. Not that you wanted to pull away from him in the first place. 

You shifted your head in order to let him hear you better. Behind a hoarse, satisfied voice, you said, “Thank you. For coming back.” 

Michael said nothing, but his grip grew tighter, telling you that he had never really left. That he was your protector, and he would always be there. 

Watching. 

Waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 here! Keep your eyes open for more parts!


End file.
